


Will you paint me a happy face? How about I resculpt you entirely?

by 3arlgr3yt3a



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art School, BAMF Lena Luthor, College, Cutting, Eventual Smut, Evil Lillian Luthor, F/F, Fluff, Goth Lena Luthor, Healing, I'm Bad At Summaries, Kara Danvers is a Ray of Sunshine, Lena Luthor Needs Therapy, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Lena Luthor is a Tease, Light Angst, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Kara Danvers, Sad Lena Luthor, Slow Burn Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Suicidal Thoughts, just a warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23316766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3arlgr3yt3a/pseuds/3arlgr3yt3a
Summary: It's just like any other art class in her figure drawing unit, there's even a new model coming today. But when Kara and her new model can't stop making eye contact, and it seems to her like they're having whole conversations without ever saying hello, Kara keeps getting pulled deeper and deeper into the enigma that is Lena. How far is she willing to go to get to know her? Is she prepared for how much more painful and troubling her life is going to get? And is she strong enough to carry them both?I suck at summaries but this is going to be good.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Kara Danvers/Original Female Character(s), Lena Luthor/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 33
Kudos: 131





	1. We meet at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for stoppin by! Subscribe mates, this is going to be good. It's gonna hurt, but it's gonna be good. I love Lena Luthor with all my heart,, please keep that in mind.

The air was thick with the metallic tang of oil paint squeezed from stained tubes and there was almost a chalkiness in her nose from charcoal blown off sheets of paper. It was all so familiar and made Kara's heart surge because there was no other place she would choose to be in this moment. She settled at her acclaimed easel, saying her hellos to every face she recognized, striking up small conversation despite it only being days since their last class together. "Did you get a haircut, Winn? Lookin' sharp." Kara sent a brilliant smile to her friend seated next to her as they both set out their supplies.

"I did! Thank you for noticing! We're getting a new model today, did you hear?"

"Really? That's exciting! I was wondering if we were going to have to take Quinston and use our imaginations to start drawing the female figure."

"Yeah, hah, I'm really excited." Winn was almost in a daze, a smile stretching his face out as his eyes glinted. 

"Wow. Subtle."

"Hey! I have an appreciation for the female body! What's wrong with that?"

"Uh huh."

A clap resounded throughout the room and all conversation halted to find their teacher, Miss Sukut at the front in her usual attire which deemed her ready for a yoga session at any time should such an occasion arise. "Class! Good morning." Her usual sarcastic tone barked out louder than should be possible for a woman of her size. "Kyler, in the back! Shut your trap and listen up, you're gonna want to, I assure you." Kara smiled, many of the students found their teacher to be prickly and there were some who despised her for whatever reason, but Kara loved her. "Today, we begin on our new unit in live model drawing, and with that, we get a new model today. Wooo!" She waved a sarcastic jazz-hands. Hoots and whistles rang out in the room and chatter arose, speculations tossed out surrounding who they were and what their new model would look like. "Now!" She called out over the noise, having no trouble being heard. "Remember our policy. You are all mature adults—well most of you—but in this class you are expected to be mature. You will respect our model who so graciously is providing their time and services for us this month and we will have a great time!" She continued on explaining their project further before finally they were released to create. 

And then their model entered the room.

She came in through the side door with not quite a smile on her face, just an unreadable, pensive quiet. Long black hair, no not black, it had a brown shine to it, cascaded over her shoulders. She went to the central circle slightly raised where their models stood to be in view of the semi circle of easels. "Class, this is Lena Kieran. Now get your charcoal out, we'll be starting with short figure poses, Ms. Kieran will be changing her pose every minute, so work quickly!" Before Lena stepped onto the platform, she began taking off her jacket, then her top, then her pants as if it were a task so menial as making a cup of coffee in front of an entire audience. She didn't stop at her underwear, as Kara knew she wouldn't. This was their nude unit afterall. But still, when she slipped her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slid them off, Kara's mouth went dry. Suddenly her face was desperately hot and her breathing too shallow. Lena's movements were quick, deliberate, and screamed of her confidence, not a show of seduction in the slightest, but it seemed that way anyway. Kara knew she was staring so she swallowed thickly, shaking thought back into her head and scrambled for her supplies. Winn nudged her and she found a smirk on his face. He raised a pointed eyebrow and Kara shook him off, rolling her eyes.

This was like any other art class, a model, her charcoal in hand, her sheet of paper before her, Kara perched on her three point stool with a posture that progressively got worse and worse the more focused on her pieces she became, right? Lena, wearing not a trace of adornment besides her bold air and rich, raven hair, stepped onto the dias and the teacher called out, "Everyone ready? Ms. Kieran, if you would like to take your first pose and I'll alert you every minute for the first five minutes or so?" 

"Sure," Lena replied in a rich voice deeper than Kara had expected, and she smiled slightly making her whole demeanor suddenly far softer. As she took her stance with her feet crossed over one another and on hand in her hair, the other ghosting her collarbone, she and Kara's gazes crossed paths. She smiled again slightly at Kara before tilting her head back. Kara could only hope there was a friendliness on her own face at least—she couldn't for the life of her account for the state of her face. 

And as Miss Sukut called out, Kara had no other choice but to get to work, her eyes with no other choice than to caress every curve of Lena's body and flicking back to her canvas for her hand to transfer. There was a silence in the room but for the strokes on paper and the shuffle of it turning over every minute. Kara couldn't help but watch the rise and fall of Lena's chest with her steady, slow breathing. Her skin was incredibly pale, but not in an ill or unattractive manner; simply incredibly fair and it stood out beautifully against her dark tresses and the blood red lipstick like a slash across her striking face. 

As Kara sketched and sketched, she slowly slipped back into her old familiar rhythms becoming focused on her art and Lena slipped from her thoughts. It was model and artist again.

Towards the end of class, with Lena's final pose, their eyes met again, and there was that same soft smile of Lena's that… wasn't as soft and innocent as the previous ones were. This time, there was the slightest shadow of teasing? It looked like one tap and it would tumble into a smirk. Kara's arm jerked on its own accord and suddenly there was a dark angry line over her beautiful piece she was actually becoming increasingly proud of. "Fuck," She let out under her breath and looking up again she caught the last traces of a raise of an eyebrow and the full effects of the smirk she had only just imagined, before Lena's eyes jumped away again, leaving only a knowing smile in place. 

"Oi! What have I said about profanities in my class? We make a mistake, we either incorporate it or start over and cry about it at home." 

Kara couldn't help but chuckle, thankful for the normality of Miss Sukut's dry humour to pull her back into place. 

Their class was finally finished for today and as they wrapped up, a few adding last touches, others gladly shoving it aside in frustration, Miss Sukut droned on about their assignments, next classes, etcetera. Kara wasn't quite listening. She was watching with absolute amazement the way Lena pulled her black skinny jeans on with the same amount of confidence as when she'd removed them, hooked her bra in place, slipped the loose black top on and looked to Kara one last time, waving so imperceptibly Kara almost missed it, before turning and leaving the room. "Thank you, Ms Kieran!" Her teacher called out after Lena but she had already rounded the corner. "Dismissed! See y'all on Thursday!" 

Kara began packing up. "Bro, you good?" Winn laughed punching Kara's shoulder with an insufferable smirk. 

"Wha- Y-yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I be?" Kara sputtered, attempting to hide her red cheeks behind the curtain of gold.

"Uh huh." Winn’s voice held obvious skepticism but Kara knew his train of thought was very easily redirected.

"We're still meeting Alex and them for drinks later?" 

"I think so, unless Lucy’s ditching on us again." The last few times they'd met up, she hadn’t shown and Kara strongly suspected why; it couldn’t have anything to do with the handsome young stranger she’d found loitering around her dorm that one Thursday when she’d walked Lucy back from class.

“I’m sure she just had an assignment to catch up on.” Winn, once again, was not convinced. It irritated Kara sometimes how much Winn could read into anyone’s love life. The guy had a problem.

The two continued their bickering as they exited the class, Lena Kieran only a shadow hovering in the back of Kara’s mind for now.  
  


“Hey! There she is!” Kara and Winn had parted ways to their dorm to get changed for tonight, but on the way Kara had gotten sidetracked by one of her professors and they’d struck up a conversation. She beamed at her group of friends gathered, a few already glassy-eyed with empty glasses in hand. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late,” Kara slid into the booth where James and Maggie had scooted further in to make room. 

“Nah it’s okay, here I ordered you a beer already,” Alex said as she slid it over, the amber liquid sloshing over the sides. 

“And some shots you missed out on.” Lucy shoved three empty glasses at Kara and Kara only raised an eyebrow, shaking her head. “Oh. I drank them. Sorry,” she slurred out.

“Lucy!” Nia scolded and was already sending Winn to get some more for Kara. 

“So, tell me _all_ about your new _model_ that Winn tells me you were drooling all over today,” Lucy prompted, already off-her-ass drunk. 

“She was smokin’, I don't blame her!” Winn called back as he walked off.

Kara was rolling her eyes again, but somehow didn’t want to talk about Lena quite yet. She had only recently discovered her bisexuality but nonetheless this felt like something private for some reason, so with little to no effort she had rerouted the conversation and Alex and Lucy were in a shouting match to see who could recount the day’s portion of idiocies in their classes the loudest.

With some shots thrust in her hands, they were suddenly all cheersing and throwing the fire down their throats with hoots and coughs. Kara shook her head again. College life. Tomorrow was going to be rough.

For the next few days, life wore on as usual. Kara attended all her lectures eagerly, throwing herself into all her classes and assignments. But as she was seated in a bay window of the college library with her sketchbook, she found her mind wandering back to Lena. She wondered where Lena came from, whether she was Kara’s age--if so, was she a student here? What made her want to do nude modelling for a bunch of college students? The money? Her deafening confidence said multitudes about her but Kara had trouble deciphering what exactly it was being said. She paged away from the assignment and found herself sketching not Lena’s figure as she had in class, but the smirk that she had sent Kara. And then her kind eyes when they had first crossed gazes, and then her soft smile that seemed to be at odds with Lena but at the same time belonged so seamlessly. Soon she had filled three pages and when she glanced at the clock, time had slipped past completely. It was a fifteen minute walk to her art class and class started in ten. Kara shoved her things in her backpack while she walked, sending a smile and a wave to the student librarian—Tamara was her name. If Kara had more time, she thought Tamara would make a great friend. She had the curliest blonde bob with a bubbly but also incredibly serious and intelligent personality. And her outfits? She was always wearing something different and completely unique everytime Kara saw her. She was intrigued. “Have a lovely day!” Tamara called from where she was reshelving books and Kara was able to shoot back a “you too!” before she was almost running.

When she finally arrived at class, she found the door locked, as it was after class had started, and had to wait for her knock to be answered. "Yeah?” 

Kara sighed. “It’s Kara, Miss Sukut. I’m _so_ sorry I’m late.”

She heard the key turn and she was quickly ushered inside with a huffing and unamused teacher. “Don’t let it happen again. Take your place, we’re only working on warmups.”

And as Kara made her way to her easel which had her claim so strongly that the other students left it open, she passed Lena on her platform where she was holding an impressive pose and she gave Kara a smile, her one eyebrow raising. Kara could only smile sheepishly and found herself able to take a good look at Lena’s eyes, being closer. They were the most incredible, mesmerizing seafoam green. 

She took her seat and fumbled to get her supplies out, wasting no time to put a few sketched figures on her page side by side with each of Lena’s movements. The grace with which Lena moved was something that suddenly startled Kara and she found her pencil had stilled and she was staring. Lena turned and they had met eyes again. She seemed to ask a question with those beautiful eyes of hers, her eyebrows lowering just a fraction and her lips quirking ever so slightly on one side. God, Kara wanted to talk to her suddenly. Say hello, introduce herself, at least. Miss Sukut was weaving in and out of the easels, making suggestions here and there and she was now at Kara’s easel, clearing her throat. She was breaking the number one rule in class: wiggle your pencil, no matter what. Kara hadn’t heard her approach. And as she scrambled, her gaze darting up and then back at Lena, she found laughter dancing in the green sunlit pools. 

At the end of class, Miss Sukut had beckoned Kara to her and asked why Kara’s attention had been so divided, also requesting the assignment that was due that Kara had never put her last finishing touches on in the library. All of this because of Lena. She couldn’t very well tell her teacher this and so she took the scolding meekly, afterwards turning to find Lena had already gone.

And so it carried on for the next three weeks. Kara would sit and draw Lena, and eventually she would paint her, all the while only imagining conversations with her as she sat and filled her canvas with Lena. The next two times, Kara had had the opportunity to go up to Lena and say hello, but what could she have said as Lena was pulling on her panties. “Hi”? The last time, she was once again sidetracked by another student coming to compliment her work and when she looked up desperately, Lena was already gone. Finally, that left Kara testy that day, and when she returned to her and Alex’s dorm, her storm didn’t go unnoticed by her sister. The door shut a little too hard as she walked in and her bag fell a little too heavily at the doorway of her bedroom. Kara fell into the couch, kicking her feet up and closing her eyes with a pillow clutched to her chest angrily. “Hey— woah okay what’s got you all riled up, sunshine?”

“ _Don’t_ call me that,” she said through gritted teeth. “And it’s,” she huffed, “It’s nothing, really. M’just frustrated.”

Alex put her pen down where she was working at their tiny table and came to perch on the back of the couch, putting her hand on Kara’s arm. “Hey. What’s up?”

Kara sighed. “No it's just… K so we got this new model a few weeks ago in art class right? Every single class we make eye contact and she smiles at me, or smirks, or raises an eyebrow when I’m late. And she’s so interesting to watch, she’s so graceful, elegant and she has such an air of confidence it’s almost… powerful? And it seems like we’ve talked before because our eye contact seems to say so much but we haven’t and I try to after every class but I always get sidetracked or she’s gone before I can and I just want to say hi! Ugh!” Kara rubbed her face aggressively. 

When she heard Alex chuckling, she peeked through her fingers and found the most infuriating smile. “Awww. Kara.”  
“No. Do not.”

“I’m sorry kiddo, what can I say, you obviously have a big fat baby gay crush on her.” Kara only groaned, trying unsucessfully to drone Alex out. “You _have_ to talk to her!”  
“I’ve been trying, weren’t you listening at all?”

“No, you were intending. Trying and intending aren’t the same. So next time you see her…”

“My next class is on Thursday.”

“So next Thursday, you are going to talk to her and you are going to _get her number!”_

“But it never works out, and she always rushes out of there so quickly without talking to anyone I’m beginning to wonder if that means something?”

“Of course it doesn’t, doofus. She’s probably really busy and has something right after that she has to get to.”

Kara heaved another sigh once again, throwing her head back into the scatter pillows. Alex only laughed as she moved away to get back to her paper. “Talk to her!”

“Yeah yeah,” Kara murmured. “Hey wanna do something tonight?”

“Sorry, I really have to finish this paper before my eight A.M. tomorrow and I havent even started really. But you go, do something fun! Take Winn or Nia.”

“Mm maybe.” Kara was known for being a social butterfly but it was more often than not that she actually enjoyed a little outing on her own sometimes. It was often more rejuvenating and a much better way for her to let loose. The idea was taking shape and becoming more and more attractive.

She had drifted off to sleep, and after jolting awake, Kara had to stretch out her neck that had developed a crick from the angle of the couches armrest. “Good morning, you missed class.” 

“You’re funny. You’re still wearing the same thing.”

“And you’re no fun.” Alex had tried this once before and it had worked. Kara had been halfway to class with a coffee in hand when she’d run into the angry janitor telling her to get out of the hallways for the evening cleaning. 

Shuffling to her room, Kara shucked off her pink skinny trousers and the new button-up she loved with all her heart, and went to stand before her closet in her undies to find something to wear suitable for her outing tonight. Where would she go? Leaving the decision for later, Kara decided on a middle-of-the-road outfit of white jeans, a top with an interesting cut that may or may not have dipped a little lower in the neckline than her usual shirts, and a cardigan that could easily dress up. She wouldn’t be the shiniest person at a bar but she’d look quite refined in a coffee shop. 

And with that, she pulled on a pair of flats and was out the door with just a “see you later” to Alex. Getting into her car, Kara decided completely out of the blue that she tonight, she felt in the mood for an art museum. Her art classes had been much more interesting as of late. She’d grab a coffee from Noonan’s on the way.

When she was in front of the menu bar she’d ordered from so many times before, Kara suddenly couldn't decide what she wanted. At the same time she felt like a caramel latte but it was late and how lovely would it be to stroll the museum sipping a London fog? So naturally, she got both. When she finished one she'd start on the next.

It was a mystery to Kara why their city's art museum stayed open until eleven at night, but tonight she was grateful. It was nine-fifteen and she was going to enjoy herself tremendously; she'd even brought her sketchbook along should some of the pieces prove incredibly inspiring.

When she arrived, she noticed that there were exactly three cars in the parking lot. Two were your average old joes, but one of them was a jet black Bugatti Veyron. Kara noticed things, she was naturally a noticer, but this? No one could've missed this. These cars went for at the very least one-point-seven million but could range anywhere in-between that and five-point-eight. Winn was her friend and she was a polite listener, and thus her car knowledge was quite expansive; this was one bloody expensive car. Parking her ratty but beloved second-hand bug a ways away from the black beast, Kara slung her bag over her shoulder and made her way inside with her two take-away cups in hand. 

For the first half an hour, she wandered the bottom level, simply admiring. Eventually she found herself taking the stairs to where the classics lay. Painting after painting, Kara was overwhelmed with the intrigue that was hidden in these pieces of old. No artwork ever was truly as it seemed and the fact that she could sit for hours and hours speculating as to the meanings hidden in each one, when in reality their creators were long dead and would never be available to confirm nor deny, just blew Kara's mind. As she moved onto the next one, she found it to be a Bronzino. Not sure why, Kara sat on the bench before it and took out her sketchbook, beginning to copy its likeness. 

Her coffee was almost finished. How long had she been sitting there? not yet five minutes? A voice startled her from behind, off to her left a bit. " _Venus, Cupid, Folly and Time._ Also known as _An Allegory with Venus and Cupid."_ Kara knew that if she were to turn to search out the face of this voice, it would be hidden in shadows as only the paintings were lit up by their individual spotlights. It wasn't the best light to view in, Kara knew that, but it was okay. So she just sat and waited for the person to approach. In the back of her mind, should Kara have cared to take note, the voice was familiar.

"For all its surface-level opulence, the _Allegory_ has a more sinister meaning to convey. Did you know that while Venus and Cupid are getting it on in the fore-front, the focus is not in the portrayal of incest _per se_ , but rather on the ill surrounding the two. The boy throwing flower petals has pierced his foot on a thorn but shows no acknowledgement of the pain, behind Cupid is a man with obvious clinical signs of untreated syphilitic infection; and the interplay behind the veil between two characters recognizable as Father Time and Oblivion. One theory is that Oblivion, with her missing eyes and brain, and hence inability to remember, is attempting to throw a veil over the scene, so that it may be forgotten, bereft of lasting consequence. Father Time on the other hand is forcibly revealing the scandal, implying that the sexual encounter cannot simply be elapsed. In addition to this established interpretation, with her missing eyes and brain, Bronzino may also be portraying the neurological consequences of untreated syphilis; characterized by optic nerve involvement and dementia associated with general paresis of the insane.

"There are more clues, but ultimately this frankly erotic painting brings a very dark message: with unchaste love comes not only joy and pleasure, but also painful consequence."

Kara knew the voice. She had only ever heard one word spoken, but she would know it anywhere. As the rich velvety tone went on and on, traces of an Irish lilt slipping through here and there, Kara almost slipped into a blissful serenity. She turned and found that the woman had approached and now stood just a metre away. "It's you," She said, almost in disbelief.

Lena smiled her soft smile. "I should've thought I would find the art student in an art museum. We meet at last." She came to sit on the other end of the bench. 

Kara's mind was racing, stumbling over all the words she could say. In a bout of confidence absolutely foreign to Kara in such a situation, she was able to say, "I've been wanting to talk to you every class, but each time something pulls me away or you're already gone."

Lena huffed a laugh. "Yeah. Sorry, I actually don't have time to be spent so frivolously so I always have to run when the time's up."

"Why do you do it then?" Kara blurted and she could've kicked herself. How rude, she hoped all hope that Lena wouldn't take offence.

But she only smiled still, albeit a little sadly. "Is spite an acceptable answer?"

Kara's brow only furrowed, the enigma wrapped around Lena only growing. "I think spite is always an acceptable answer. My sister used to live her whole life out of spite—she still does, I suppose. When we were little, a boy told her she wasn't strong enough to play with them so she eventually joined the wrestling team and pinned this kid so many times; and because her grades weren't the highest ever she was told that she wasn't smart enough for college and now she just finished her medical school and is on her fourth year of getting her bachelor's degree to be a doctor. At prom she was dumped by a guy who said that she just wasn't pretty enough and she wouldn't ever get a guy to be interested in her and now she's had like six girlfriends." Kara laughed fondly at her sister. She loved her. 

"That's pretty amazing, more people should be like your sister."

"I think so, she's pretty great…." Kara lifted the last of her coffee to down and then started, realizing she still had a full tea. "I uh- I couldn't decide what to get so I just got both a latte and a tea? But I'm pretty sure I couldn't have actually drank both, so… would you like the tea? It's a London fog."

Lena was looking at her like that again, like she was a puzzle she was trying to decipher. Then she laughed. "That's one way to deal with indecision. What's a London fog?"

Kara's face split in a grin. "I didn't know either but our student librarian once suggested it to me out of the blue, she's kind of random but she's awesome. It's steamed milk with an earl grey tea bag and a shot of vanilla. It's to _die_ for!" 

"Well in that case, if you're not going to drink it, I'd love to try it. Thank you."

"I think it's still warm enough." She handed it over, suddenly embarrassed by herself and her tendencies to ramble.

She waited as Lena took the first sip, and when she raised an eyebrow, Kara grinned. "This is really good, you're right. You can thank…"

"Tamara."

"Tamara for me." Lena cradled it in her lap. Kara noticed for the first time what she was wearing and was once again struck by Lena's beauty. Black skinny jeans, a low-cut black top and a navy blue blazer with elegant gold accents of a rigid necklace and bar earrings. Her hair was hanging messily, and the kink in it suggested she'd just taken it out of a tight ponytail or bun. 

Lena leaned over a bit, catching sight of Kara's sketch abandoned in her lap. "Wow. You're good. I mean I expected it, but this is really good."

Kara laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Thank you."

"May I…?" Lena held out her hand for the book and, Kara mentally desperately crossing her fingers that Lena wouldn't page through it, she handed it over. She studied it for a minute, occasionally glancing up at the piece on the wall, she repeated after a while under her breath, "Wow." As she went to lift the page, Kara let out a strangled noise and Lena looked up quickly, amusement glittering. "I'm sorry… may I?" She asked again. 

Kara squirmed a little. "I mean, you can. It's just... uh- a lot of you. This would be weird since we've never met before, but I guess considering, but uh, yeah."

Lena laughed and eagerly turned the page. "Even more so then, I wanna see the fruit of our labour." The first few were just vague figure drawings that only really represented the female body, but then there were the ones from the library that Kara had completely forgotten about. The ones of Lena's eyes, mouth, face, expressions that enthralled Kara so. 

"Oh," Lena said, surprised.

"Oh god," Kara mumbled into the hands over her face. 

"No, no. These are really, really amazing!" You're truly an amazing artist. I'm honoured…." Kara's face was still buried in her hands and Lena's finger encircled her wrist, pulling her hand away. "I'm serious." Her hands were so soft in comparison to the strength they always appeared to have to Kara. "Thank you for letting me see these. I'm glad to know I'm at least being done justice," She teased.

"Well, you're welcome. It's not easy, you're so beautiful." Kara noticed a rosier colour on Lena's pale cheeks. 

"Thank you." She sipped her tea again, hiding behind it. She was always so confident, enough so to bare her body to the speculation and study of a room full of male and female young adults, but was now suddenly so bashful at a complimented fact that Kara knew Lena was absolutely aware of. 

"Lena?" Saying her name, Kara realized she'd never done what she'd been longing to do for weeks. "Oh my gosh! Hi, I'm Kara."

"I was wondering when I was going to get to know that," Lena laughed. "Hello, Kara." 

Suddenly the grandfather clock chimed downstairs and looking at her watch, Kara found it was eleven o'clock and the museum was closing. 

"Shoot, we better go!" 

"Oh dear, I lost track of time. Being kicked out of a museum will not be a first for me."

As Kara repacked her bag and gathered the empty cups, she shot a glance to Lena, laughing in disbelief. "What! You can't just say that and not promise me the story."

As the two hurried down the stairs and out the door Lena was writing her number on Kara's arm, saying, "Let's do this again sometime, then, and I'll tell you the story."

"Not tonight?"

"I'm sorry, I do have to be getting home—early morning tomorrow." She was walking backwards now, her hands buried in her pockets. "Thank you for the tea!"

"You really are pulling a Cinderella on me, you know that?"

Lena chuckled and waved, "See you in class, Kara. No more getting distracted!"

Kara could only beam. She finally had a little bit of background to go to this Lena Kieran that wouldn't leave her mind. She waved as Lena got into her car and sped off, and only after did Kara realize the Bugatti was, in fact, Lena's. Wow. The more she got to know her, the more questions she had. Thursday couldn't come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, gays! Comments keep me sane enough to put words on a page so please do let me know if you like it ✌🏼


	2. Unworthy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the very Lena/Andrea-centric chapter (not really sorry) and the lack of Kara, but here we get some insight into Lena's character. It's a pivotal point in Lena's life and she realizes some things. And we even get a little bit of kiddy Lena which honestly, whose heart wouldn't melt.  
> I didn't think there'd be explicit smut so soon in the story but I found it necessary, so forewarning!  
> Also I like to set the scene with images in most of my stories so hope you enjoy!

As Lena drove away from the Spitzler Gallery of Art and Antiquities, it felt almost as though the air around her was becoming darker and darker as she sped away from where she’d left the art student in that parking lot. The streetlamps lining the roads did nothing to penetrate it. From the moment she and the girl had first met eyes, Lena had just felt the suggestion of… light and life? The light that exuded from her smile, her crystal blue eyes, the joy that seemed to bubble from an endless well, the way she rambled and stuttered and became so easily flustered. Lena was intrigued and now, drawn to her. She was a curious mind, always wanting to know more, what could she say?

When she had first called the college upon seeing the advertisement seeking models for the art program, she hadn’t really been thinking straight. 

Her and her step brother, Lex, had just had something of a falling out—yet another—when she’d been on her way out to a high-class restaurant just for a simple date with her girlfriend. He’d stopped her in her tracks, her hand on the doorknob, and told her if that’s how she was planning on leaving the house, he’d easily enough convince his mother of some or other wrongdoing on her part. Perhaps her dress was quite the plunge from the off shoulders exposing a fair bit of… everything, it _did_ have not one, but two slits in the skirt reaching up to her hips, and it indeed hugged every curve she had as almost another skin, but she had felt the need to impress Andrea. 

She had fought back, absolutely seething due to the fact that her elder step-brother was reprimanding and admonishing her in the way she dressed as if she wasn’t a twenty-two year old adult with the highest IQ in her age and gender group worldwide. He had no place, and Lena would sooner inject botulinum toxin intravenously into herself than be belittled and degraded by her brother over the state of her dress. He had called her a whore, saying what use was her mind when she defiled her body like she was. 

Lena had always been logical, but in that moment, her vision clouded over red. She had slammed the door in Lex’s face, going on her date, seducing her lovely girlfriend with everything in her, enjoying the way Andrea’s eyes had glazed upon seeing Lena, and ultimately having a wonderful night together. 

The next day, through her hammering headache painted the colour of wine, she recalled the ad she’d seen and with the number photographically stored in her memory, dialed the number. Signing a shitload of forms and feeling not an ounce of embarrassment, she signed over the rights to a group of college students to study her naked body in their art class, all the while basking in the smug spite of Lex. 

She couldn’t recall the following four days besides the moment her brother led her into their mother’s sterile laboratory, handing her over to Lillian for whatever she had planned next, and the moment she woke in her bed again in the morning, only her phone’s date proof of the missing time. And the messages and calls from Andrea. 

From then on, she had kept logic forefront. She had responsibilities and obligations and if she allowed herself to lose her grip on her anger and land herself at the mercy of Lillian in the name of a deserved punishment, she was going to lose the minuscule grasp on her own life that she had. But she still went to those art classes, despite the inconvenience of their time-slot, and through them all she had planned to revel in the spite of it all. But all of that had almost been forgotten when she’d met Kara—her curiosity had piqued, leaving her mind to wander in speculations. It was actually quite thrilling, also; an adrenaline rush like no other.

It had been a miracle, really, that she’d found herself in an art gallery of all places tonight. Usually, her schedule never allowed for such trivial luxuries, but she had needed the mindlessness and the refuge she’d found in the world of art in her early years of foster care. Her first good family after the previous bad ones were lovers of art and they’d passed a strong impression on to her young self. She had just come from a few meetings on behalf of LuthorCorp where she was employed by her parents and after changing from the pencil skirt to jeans and deeming the blazer tolerable enough, she made her way downtown. 

What she was not expecting was the very same art student who’d crossed her mind a few times to be sitting in front of a Bronzino, sketching away. She had debated whether to leave Kara in peace or approach her, guessing that anyone at an art gallery this time of night was after solitude, but ultimately decided now was a good a time as any to at least learn her name—when their state of undress was not so grossly unequal. She found Kara's company may just have improved her night despite being after solitude initially. 

But the closer Lena got to the Luthor mansion, the more she found her foot lifting off the pedal unconsciously. Until she was almost crawling, and the thing to bring her back to sense was a car swerving out from behind her, lying on their hooter for a good ten seconds. The last thing she wanted to do right now was walk into that mansion, knowing that the breath of fresh air Kara had given her would be immediately smothered by the dark, heavy interior; walk past Lionel's study with its door slightly ajar in the sparsely lit hall; risk encountering Lex or Lillian, the former probably on the prowl for her. 

She couldn't wait to _fucking_ leave. But she had a debt to repay, and the Luthors did not reach their heights and billions by forgiving debts—even that of an adopted daughter of theirs. 

Though it was never about charity in the first place, was it? She was the bastard child of Lionel and her real mother, abandoned in the name of protecting his reputation, and left to rot in the foster system when her mother died when she was only four. It was not until she was nine that the Luthors had become aware of her mind and the brilliance of it that could no longer be kept hidden—not that she knew to even try. 

She had set to wandering the streets after school one day, unwilling to catch the bus home, when some time later, she'd found herself in a library. Dawdling up and down the endless rows of books, dragging her finger across the spines, just enjoying reading each of the titles. Until she came across a door in the back corner. It was slightly ajar, voices were escaping the room in excited and heated shambles, and through the glass cutout that she could only just see into at her small height, she found a group of people seated at a round table. Some were sitting, their chins propped on steepled fingers as they listened to those who spoke so passionately, they'd been lifted to their feet. But there was no anger—something Lena was very familiar with being witness to—it was simply a caught-up-in-the-moment excitable discussion, it seemed. Stepping back, she found a paper had been taped to the door and it read "Reserved for Mensa". Lena had no idea how she knew, maybe she had paged through a Latin book at some point in her life, but she knew that mensa meant "table" in Latin. And she was chuffed by that fact.

But why would a room be reserved for a table? Confused, she edged the door open, slowly and quiet as a mouse and poked her head in to listen closer. For minutes on end she listened as different people spoke up, voicing their ideas, opinions, and asking challenging questions. The topics changed in a whirlwind, jumping from one to the next constantly. She followed most of it, but some topics she had never before encountered and soon curiosity was taking over her controls. 

Lena watched, as a man walked to the front where a whiteboard was mounted on the wall, and announced they would begin their exercises. She learned from his explanation that each member had constructed a series of questions, riddles, or equations to be solved by the others. The man presented his first and Lena watched in awe as the people bowed their heads and scribbled away with fury until one would stand and announce their answer. It seemed to be a race. 

There was a rush and a searing in her blood as the desire to solve and answer the questions for herself built and built. Then, there was a question that caused the solving period to stretch. Heads were scratched and the lady in the front looked around expectantly. A man, without standing, finally spoke. "I don't believe you've structured the equation correctly, sorry, Alice." The lady's face fell as she whipped her eyes back to her paper, puzzlement etched in her eyebrows. 

"Can't be," She had whispered in disbelief. 

In the lengthening silence as she reviewed and reviewed her question, Lena mustered up all the courage she had and stepped into the room. She had a theory she needed to test.

"Excuse me?" She squeaked, and nearing the nearest person she reached up to take his paper. "May I look at this?" Studying it intently in the surprised silence for a moment, she gave it back and went to the board. Picking up a marker and uncapping it with some difficulty, she began writing. "It looks like the lawyer man was working the equation the wrong way round, and if you all are, and reaching his conclusion, you won't find the answer. You need to start from the other side." She scribbled in her juvenile handwriting a series of numbers and symbols until she ran out of space at the bottom and had to move up and over again to continue, her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth. Finally she wrote the final answer and circled it shakily. "There. Miss Alice lady, you didn't structure it wrong." She turned to where the woman had split into a grin as she looked from the board back to her paper a few times. 

"Yes! Yes, that's right! You've solved it!" She rushed to Lena, dropping to her haunches. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Lena," She answered and if she'd have looked up and around the room, she would've found a few faces flushed in embarrassment, while others slackened in awe, and yet others equally as excited as Alice was. 

“Well this is Mensa, we’re a genius group. Would you like to stay a little while longer? We have about twenty minutes left tonight.”

Lena’s little face had reflected the blinding grin as she vigorously nodded. That night, she’d felt happier and more whole than she ever had in her life. 

She wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but after that night it just took off and soon enough, Lionel had been alerted to a little girl by the name of Lena Kieran who had just bested a whole room of geniuses. 

It wasn’t long until her whole life was turned upside down, yet again, and she was ripped from a family she had actually begun to like; they were kind. But the record was set straight, Lionel saying he had no knowledge of Lena and seeing as he was her only living relative, with a background check into his good character and stable family, papers for Lena’s entire livelihood were signed. Lena Kieran was striked out for Lena Luthor to take its place on the page. 

Unknowingly, she’d pulled into the drive and parked in her designated spot, and had been sitting there for at least a few minutes staring out into the night in silence. She pried her hands from the wheel, her palms an angry red. Sighing, Lena gathered her bag and briefcase and let herself into the east wing, making her way to her room, thankfully without any interception. Absently, she wondered if Kara would call her and hoped she wouldn’t. Kara didn’t need someone like Lena to put a cloth over her light. At the thought of calling, Lena jolted, remembering she promised to call Andrea. Digging in her purse she’d tossed to the side, she pulled it out, opening to three missed calls. Lena groaned, knowing Andrea hated her calls going unanswered. She immediately dialed her girlfriend’s number. “Lena,” her voice came through slightly clipped, but not unfriendly. 

“Drea, I’m so sorry for missing your calls, I- it- uh I was caught up with something.” She cursed herself for stumbling over her words so. 

“It’s fine,” Andrea sighed. “I’ve just got something exciting to tell you, I’ve been waiting all day and I couldn’t just text it.”

Lena thought it might be easier to run three marathons consecutively than to muster up the enthusiasm Andrea expected from her, but nevertheless, she poured the last of her energy into doing so. It was what any good girlfriend would do. “Really! Do tell?”

“I got a job offer! From _Obsidian North!”_ Andrea was practically squealing. She began rambling on and on about the course of events leading up to it and... her words melted into each other—Lena found herself zoning out, her thoughts elsewhere, not hearing. It was as though her mind was just shutting itself off. Caving in on itself. “Lena?”

Her mind crashed back into itself. “That’s so amazing! Wow! Congratulations! Obsidian Tech, as in _the_ Obsidian Tech that you’ve been obsessed with forever?” Andrea seemed to forget Lena’s hesitation. 

“ _Yes!”_

“So when do you start? And it’ll be the branch here in National City?”

“Next week! And, well… no it's actually the branch in Metropolis….”

“So soon! Oh Metropolis?” Her voice trailed off and she knew she had to end the conversation quickly. 

“Yeah. I know it’s far... but I thought you’d at least be excited for me? And you can always come visit-”

“No, I am excited! It’s so great, Drea and I’m so proud of you. I just…”

“What?” She said hotly. After Lena’s silence Andrea finally sighed. “Baby, you sound tired or depressed or something, need me to come and distract you?” Her voice had dropped to it's sultry tone while Lena felt herself go on autopilot. _How about you just ask me about it._ She chuckled as would be expected, thankful Andrea couldn’t see the absolute lack of emotion or flush on her face.

“No, I should probably get to bed. But I’ll take you up on that soon.” Lena quickly added. “But no, really, congratulations. Shall we celebrate tomorrow?”  
“I thought you’d never ask. Pick me up at eight?”

“Sure.”

“Night, baby. Dream of me.” Lena could just see Andrea winking after that one. 

“Always,” she replied although she couldn’t recall a time she had since before they’d made it official. 

As the line went dead, Lena dropped her arm by her side. Her limbs felt like lead and her head filled with cotton. She didn’t register her phone slipping from her fingers to thud heavily on the floor. Not bothering to take off her jeans and knowing her top would definitely be a rumpled mess come morning, Lena slumped onto her bed. Curling up into herself, she felt a single tear roll over the bridge of her nose to pool in her other eye and sting before sleep took her.

Lena arrived home after a grueling day at LuthorCorp, dumped her briefcase on her desk, and headed towards her closet to find a suitable outfit for tonight. Andrea was expecting her within the hour. On the way, she passed her bed and was reminded of waking up this morning to makeup smudged across her pillow, a feeling of wanting to escape her skin having slept in skinny jeans, and a hollow feeling inside. Other than that, she’d at least woken with her head back on her shoulders. She’d forgotten to ask Haley to change her bedsheets this morning. 

Andrea had called her excited to share her life-changing news; news she had been waiting on and dreaming of forever, and all Lena could offer were some half-assed congratulatory responses. How would she feel were their situations swapped? Unthinking, she snapped at the band at her wrist over and over as she wandered into her walk-in closet to decide. She was pathetic. Andrea deserved more. More support, more excitement, more feedback from Lena; just _more._

What _had_ Lena been offering her lately? In the span of their whole relationship, really, other than sex and maybe spoiling Andrea by taking her out and throwing expensive gifts at her. It wasn’t like she also didn’t come from a family made of money either. Lena found herself pulling out a pair of sneakers she’d long grown out of, digging inside for the box of razors, before she caught herself. 

She couldn’t show up to do nude modeling with fresh cuts on her skin. “Get it together, Lena. Get the fuck together.” Andrea wouldn’t appreciate it either. Sighing, she stood again. Finally, she decided on a deep blue suit. Rather than a button up under the blue vest, Lena decided to forgo the vest and chose only a black top that plunged low and loose. The least she could do right now for Andrea was this. Adorning herself with simple, yet striking jewellery and fastening a gold bracelet that Andrea had given Lena around her wrist of which the sapphire charm complimented the suit perfectly. 

Setting out a wicked pair of heels, Lena went to the ensuite to update her makeup just a little, taking it from the office to a celebratory night with her girlfriend; one who was far too bold, striking, successful, and powerful for Lena to deserve her, but…. Lena let the thought trail off. Knowing just what Andrea liked more than other things, Lena got out the straightening iron to touch up the kinks in her hair, deciding to leave it down in a luxurious black curtain. 

Finally, she deemed herself acceptable enough for the night and slipped on the shoes and grabbed her clutch. Haley was just walking by as she left her room and Lena was inexplicably grateful she didn’t have to go hunting her down throughout the house. “Oh! Haley! How are you?”

“Miss Lena! Well, thank you. And you?” She had long since stopped expressing her confusion whenever Lena would ask. 

Lena only smiled. “Haley, could I ask you to maybe do my bedding earlier this week? I might’ve fallen asleep without taking my makeup off again… with my shoes on.” She winced in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

“Not at all, of course, I’ll do that right away, Miss Lena.”

“Thank you so much—have a nice night.”

“You too, Miss Lena. You look lovely.” Lena smiled genuinely for the first time that day. 

“As do you.” The girl blushed, sheepishly looking away with a mumbled thank you and Lena turned to go, her heels clicking and echoing through the halls.

Pulling up in front of Andrea’s penthouse, Lena couldn’t help feeling bitter that she’d had no choice but to go back to the Luthor mansion after her studies instead of having her own place as well. Parking, she grabbed the double bunch of roses, and took the elevator up to the top floor. Hiding the flowers behind her back, she knocked on the door, breathing deeply and slipped into the mold of who she’d come to know Lena Luthor as.

When Andrea opened the door, Lena was leaning a shoulder casually on the door, one ankle crossed over the other, and brought the roses out from behind her back. She raked her eyes of Andrea’s form clad in a black dress that, when she twirled, Lena discovered revealed almost the entire length of her spine. “You look ravishing, darling.” Lena said lowly and stepped into Andrea’s space, pressing her fingers into her bare lower back as she brought their lips together for a deep kiss.

Breathless, Andrea said, “As do you.” Her eyes were almost black already. “God, you in a suit.” 

Lena only smirked and offered the roses again. Rather than put them in a vase to preserve their richness, Andrea just tossed them on the counter and turned back to Lena. She stalked forward, circling Lena almost predatory-like before coming to stand behind her and pressing into her back. Dipping her head, Andrea breathed into Lena’s ear, “We don’t need to go out, do we? Let’s just stay in, I can think of something much better to eat here.”

Lena shivered. Turning, she pressed their fronts together and gripped Andrea’s hips in her hands. In what seemed like a battle for dominance, the spanish woman slid her hands inside Lena’s arms, cresting over the curve of her hips before sliding lower still to grasp her ass. In the process, pressing their pelvises together tighter still. A moan was let out and at first Lena thought it was her own, but when her racing heart started feeling more like panic than arousal her eyes flew open to ground herself on something, anything. 

But there was only Andrea. 

Andrea’s too-sweet perfume that was filling her senses completely, there was the absolute possession in her grip, and there was her sinful smirk stretching across her face. Lena imagined someone in this position would say they were intoxicated, but right now, she felt intoxicated in the sense that poison was running through her veins, speeding towards her heart and steadily taking over. 

And then Andrea leaned down to lick Lena’s lips without any kiss beforehand and Lena felt faint. 

Resisting the urge to wipe her mouth and maintaining her mask, Lena pressed a kiss back on Andrea’s mouth, before stepping out of her arms. She didn’t think she would make it through a dinner of small talk, most of which revolving around Andrea and Andrea and Andrea, especially not after this, but she wondered now if she’d make it through the other option either. Deciding the latter was at least mindless and easier to hide in, Lena suggested they first pour a drink. “We have to at least make a toast before we get to the celebrating, don’t we?”

“Of course,” Andrea said, and as Lena turned to head for the liquor cabinet, her girlfriend smacked her ass and Lena forced out a laugh that she hoped sounded sensual enough. Setting out two wine glasses and taking the bottle Andrea chose for them, Lena got the corkscrew and popped the cork to pour. “I’ll be waiting in the living room.”

With Andrea out of view Lena suddenly made a terrible impulsive decision. Pulling a bottle of amber whiskey out of the cupboard as quietly as she could, Lena removed the cap and lifted the bottle straight to her lips. Opening her throat, she downed a few swallows before the burn became too much and she resisted the urge to cough with everything in her. 

Distantly, through her desperate attempts to breathe again, she heard her phone chime but thought nothing of it. Taking another, more moderated swig and even splashing a good bit in her glass, Lena put it away and poured two generous glasses of the red wine. Ensuring to keep the right glass for herself.

As she entered the living room, she spotted Andrea with a phone in hand. As she leaned down to hand her her glass, Lena found it was in fact her phone in her hand. “Who’s this?” Andrea asked with a testing tone, passing the phone to Lena. On her lockscreen, hovering above a picture of Andrea caught in laughter, a message from an unknown number read: _Hi! Lena? It’s Kara:) (From the Spitzler). How’s it going! I had a great time chatting to you the other night, I hope we can do it again sometime._

Lena’s heart raced, she wasn’t sure if it was panic from being caught… what? Simply talking to another girl? Or excitement of having heard from Kara. Ever the actress, her expression was schooled into one of slight surprise. “Oh Kara!”

“Kara, hm? A girl you were chatting up at a bar, probably drunk off your ass, that you happened to give your number to?” 

Lena kept the accusation from affecting her features as she calmly answered. She wished she hadn’t let Andrea become familiar with her… relationship with alcohol. “No, actually, Kara whom I met at the Spitzler Gallery of Art and Antiquities and with whom I discussed a piece of art.”

“And you gave her your number?” Lena gave her girlfriend credit for never looking embarrassed over her incorrect assumptions.

Lena sighed, barely restraining frustration. “I told you myself the other day, you’re the only friend I have in National City. Obviously, not just friends, darling. But I’m glad to be making more. Especially now that you’re going away….” 

Andrea barely seemed convinced but at the mention of her going away she softened, realizing why they were here, together tonight, and what they had just interrupted. She got up and came to straddle Lena’s lap. “I just want you all for myself, baby. I’m sorry for being so enraptured with you.” Lena sighed cupping Andrea’s hip with her free hand and she took a long drink of her wine, needing more alcohol in her bloodstream for this. 

“I know.” She squeezed her hip, rubbing light circles. “I’m all yours and I’m here to celebrate you tonight.” With another gulp of wine, Lena set it aside and moved both hands to grip Andrea’s ass. Needing no further invitation, Andrea crashed her lips to Lena’s in a heated clash of heavy breaths and burning, languid tongues. It wasn’t long at all before Andrea’s hands were eagerly clawing at Lena’s jacket, slipping it off her shoulders and Lena shrugged her arms out, tossing it to the side. When her girlfriend changed to kiss Lena’s jaw, moving down her neck in open mouthed, messy kisses, Lena took the opportunity to snatch her wine glass on the side table and take a quick few gulps and finishing off the last of it. Andrea was attached to her throat, of course she was aware of how much Lena had swallowed. She raised her head and somehow Lena still expected to see worry or concern in her eyes, but she just looked mildly annoyed. “Hey, go easy, I wanna have a good night, not be holding your hair up over the toilet.” 

Lena just forced a laugh. “It takes more than one glass for me, darling. We’ll have a good night, I can assure you.” And finally, _finally_ Lena felt that sizzling beneath her skin, the buzz in her head and the rush in her veins. She felt her head grow light as her worries spilled out and her restraints slip away as her inhibitions were washed down with that last sip. She slid her hands to Andrea’s thighs, rubbing up and down before coming to rest high on her inner thighs, tauntingly. 

Reciprocating, Andrea’s hands feverishly threaded through raven locks. Rubbing from behind her neck, down her arms, back and over her shoulder to trail down her chest. Though her touch was gentle, Andrea's hands came down to roughly tear the buttons of her shirt, her mouth never leaving Lena's and her fingers rising desperately to find the shockingly pale skin, tension in her belly, her breasts under lace, the bulging bone of her clavicle in a delicate curve. 

With her shirt surely in tatters around her on the couch, Lena pushed her hands away, refusing the all too gentle and intimate caresses being lavished on her and she leaned forward, reaching back to unhook her bra while breathing hotly and provocatively into Andrea’s mouth. Tossing Lena’s bra somewhere into the living room, Andrea couldn't help but smile viciously, seeing her desperate desire for control, almost completely naked under the lamplight, even more stubborn than she always was. 

Andrea came to her again, determined to make her melt and submit it seemed. Lena felt herself slipping into that familiar place; she was long used to being made to do as others wished, being dominated and controlled. As she kissed her jaw, mapping from the flexed point, to her neck, teeth on her skin which was aching divinely. On her clavicle and chest, until she was pinning Lena’s hands beneath her knees and she bent down to put her mouth over a pale breast. She kissed across the valley to the other, savoring, swirling her tongue around the rosy nipple, Lena's moan echoing loudly. 

Finally, Lena ripped her hands from beneath her girlfriend's weight and pushed her off of her. As she stood, confused, Lena raised an eyebrow, trying for a smirk. “Well, Miss Obsidian. Let’s see what’s under that pretty exterior. Strip for me, baby,” She whispered and beneath the sudden dump of alcohol that she knew was going to start hurting soon enough, Lena registered that this felt like another act. 

Andrea smiled her wide smile that Lena had found so beautiful back in boarding school all the way through University. Her big, round eyes which had captured her attention so many times before to eventually fill with insatiable desire that reflected Lena’s own. Slowly, sensually, she released the zip at her hip, pulled the two shoulders down to reveal full breasts and no bra. She dropped the dress around her ankles and stepped out of it. Turning her back to Lena, her head to the side to keep Lena in her peripheral, Andrea hooked her thumbs in her lace thong as she arched her back, to push out her ass and slid the sparse material down her long, bronze legs. 

And Lena tried, as best as she could, to drink it all in. To drink in the woman that had been her only friend for the longest time she’d ever had one, who slipped into her black heart and became her best friend, and then who brushed up against tentative walls enclosing her sexuality only to come back with a sledgehammer. She drank all of her in, making sure to ignite the fire of lust behind her eyes because that’s what Andrea deserved. Because tonight was probably going to be the last time.

It could be one of the last, but the week would be busy with her girlfriend packing up her life. So Lena tried to pour herself completely into the moment, into this that she had with Andrea.

But it could also probably be the last time because Lena was not in love now, she wouldn’t chase Andrea when she decided to leave her for her dreams that Lena was not a part of.

Because they’re not in love now.

But Lena looked at her; gently and frighteningly, truly seeing her. What had they been doing? Why was Andrea wasting her time with a lost cause like Lena who didn’t even measure up to a place in her future, and why was Lena letting herself waste Andrea’s time? She was a good judge of a person and she’d always known Andrea’s potential. As the saying goes, she was a stone cold bitch, and that made her willing to do whatever it took, thus making her nothing but a perfect candidate for blinding success. 

She was glad Andrea wasn’t letting Lena hold her back from her goals and wasting time wondering if she loved Lena, if she was worth holding onto even if it meant forgoing an offer of a lifetime. There wasn’t any such hesitancy or debate. 

Andrea had known all along the impermanence of Lena in her life. She was just waiting expectantly for her future and opportunities to knock on her door and then she was leaving it all. 

Lena swallowed back sudden, inexplicable tears threatening to expose her. 

She was really glad that Andrea knew what she wanted.

Right now, it was very evident what she wanted, and ever eager to give Andrea all that she desired and feeling this was the only thing worthy that Lena could offer, she stood, crowding Andrea’s space, breast to breast, hip to hip, and crashed their lips together. Lena feverishly ran her hands all over her girlfriend’s, best friend’s… friend’s body, worshipping her. Making her realize every ounce of worth she had. Dragging her nails down her back, cupping her ass, Lena lifted her by the thighs and wrapping her legs around Lena’s waist, Andrea pressed her hot cunt into Lena’s tightening stomach. 

Reaching the bedroom, Lena set Andrea down almost reverently on her silken bed and topped her one last time. 

It was the least she could do. 

It was goodbye. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, gays! Comments keep me sane enough to put words on a page so please do let me know if you like it ✌🏼  
> Also I'm always open to suggestions and inspiration in all stories so if there's anything you're thirsty for (for e.g. i was thirsty for RojasCorp but SuperCorp reigns supreme) feel free to let me know!! I have a general story line but anything can always be inCORPorated ;)


	3. I’ll figure it out, it’ll be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are we here to read about supercorp or not? we absolutely are, please have patience and trust in the process.
> 
> but yes i am sorry for what you're about to read

“Was it the smiley face? You keep telling me the smiley faces are dorky. Maybe it was stupid to say from the Spitzler, like how many ‘Kara’s could she possibly know that she’s just recently shared her number with?” Kara groaned and slumped her elbows onto the cold granite counter with a painful sound, burying her face in her hands. “It was probably too forward to assume-”

“Kara. Wasn’t she the one who said let’s do this again sometime? You literally used her exact words so no it wasn’t too for-”

“Oh my god, I did! Alex I can’t even think of anything original to say myself!” Kara whined, drawing out the word.

“Kara! If I have to listen to any more of this I will personally pick your ass up, deposit you on Lena’s front porch and tie you up there until you ask her your damn self why she hasn’t responded.” Alex gracelessly dropped the milk jug onto the counter, causing it to crumple at the handle. She pointedly glared at her sister with exasperation until Kara sheepishly lifted her head to meet her gaze. 

“Like you can lift _me_ ,” she mumbled.

“ _That’s_ what you get out of this? Okay.” Alex flicked the cap off the gallon jug and lifted the bottle straight to her lips. When she set it back down, it was significantly more gentle and her eyes had taken on a sympathetic light. “I get it. It’s your first crush on a girl and you’re still navigating your feelings. I get being unsure of how to act with a woman you like after only ever experiencing men. I _get_ it. But seriously, you just met her, you had one conversation, and maybe it has been three days since you sent the text, but she said she has a busy life! So you need to _chill._ There’s nothing wrong with the message you sent, and honestly? There’s no way anyone couldn’t like you. I mean look at you. You’re hot, you’re a clumsy, stuttering dork in button-ups and a literal ray of sunshine. Just give her a minute.”

Kara, red to the tips of her ears, rolled her eyes before sighing. “There’s no way she’s single, though.”

“Maybe so but that doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance.”

“But I’m just a college art student and she’s— what? A hella rich, _gorgeous_ business woman probably, when she should still be in college, so she’s obviously insanely smart and—”

Shutting the fridge door with a rattle and turning away, Alex called over her shoulder from her room she was escaping to, “I’m no longer a part of this conversation! _Just give her a minute!”_

At Alex’s retreat, Kara huffed, going to get the milk out for herself and taking a sip, though not before eyeing the spout with disgust. She was definitely overreacting and had no idea why she was acting like this was her first crush in middle school. Alex was right, maybe it was all just her seeing things from a new and foregin perspective of _oh my gosh I’m a girl and I want to kiss a girl and I have no idea how to act upon that now._ “Yeah, yeah. I’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine,” she murmured.

As Kara left for her classes of the day, sitting through one after the next, constantly having to redirect her thoughts whenever they wondered, her resignation slowly grew. Lena still hadn’t answered and by the end of the day Kara was okay with that. She had simply been intrigued by Lena and, being the friendly person she was, wanted to make a new friend, that was all.

Stuffing her notebook and laptop into the canvas shoulder bag resting at her hip, Kara sighed. “Kara, hey! How was your weekend?”

Startled from her thoughts, she pulled her eyes up to find a brunette also in the process of slinging a bag over her shoulder. Was her name Lisa? “Hey!” She smiled brightly nevertheless. “It was pretty great! Lots of projects though.”

The girl hummed. “Tell me about it. See you next class!” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

“Later, Kara.” A guy, Ivan, was on his way to the door and Kara shot him a smile with a wave. With two more goodbyes from people Kara barely knew, her theory was cemented. She was just a really friendly person who had to know everything about everyone. 

Slipping into the hall, she absentmindedly quoted a book she’d finished this morning, mumbling under her breath: _“Everyone was going to die. And she would never know them, never approach them, never speak to them, and all those stories walking past on the street inside the people carrying them_ — _she would never know anything of them.”_ She had no idea why she had such a weirdly good memory, sometimes her brain found something it really liked and like a starved word-hoarding goblin decided it would never let it go. 

“I feel the same way. It scares me sometimes how there are so many people on this earth, yet there’re only a few hundred, maybe thousand, whom I will actually get to know. And probably only fifty-three, tops, which I’ll know intimately.” Kara had almost jumped out of her skin at the voice beside her. Tamara, from the library, had fallen in step with her and evidently overheard her recitement. “Was that a book you were quoting?”

“Um yes, I believe it was Christine Feret-Fleury or something like that. I just quickly read it this morning and that quote stuck for some reason.”

“Weird how our brains do that, isn’t it? Decide on something to hold onto without our consent. She’s a french author, isn’t she?”

“Hmm I don’t know. I’ve only ever read the one—I guess it was a translation then?”

She took the opportunity to study the girl walking beside her as she spoke. She had her usual wild curls that seemed alive under the fedora perched on top; she wore green skinny jeans rolled at the ankle and sturdy leather lace-ups. A mustard shirt tucked at her waist with a jean jacket rolled to her elbows, Kara silently admired this girl’s style once again. It screamed adrogynous fashion, and lately Kara had been fascinated by the specific concept. “Must be! She hasn’t had any of her other books translated so it must be her first.”

“You know an awful lot— right. Student librarian.” Kara laughed at herself and Tamara joined her.

“But only student librarian because I’ve been crazy about books since I was, like, five. Where you heading?” She had a stack of books in her arms and adjusted them slightly.

“Can I carry some of those for you?” Tamara gratefully let Kara take a few off of her. “I was heading to the library, actually. I have an assignment I need to get started on and that’s the quietest place I know.” 

“Well snazzy that.” Kara inwardly laughed, puzzling over this girl’s choice of words. “Would you believe me if I said I was heading there too?” She said, letting Kara trip on her sarcasm for a split-second.

“Whatever could you be heading there for,” she retorted back in kind and the girl flashed her a grin. 

As they walked, they chatted. Talking to Tamara came easily and the conversation seemed to constantly flow. Kara had always found having a conversation with most people was a chore because she would more often than not be the only one carrying it, but Tamara seemed to always have a stream of intelligent thoughts which she was brilliantly open to share. As they neared the library, she was almost reluctant to have it draw to an end. It had been really nice to have a distraction, her thoughts free to have a pleasant conversation rather than churning and stumbling over themselves endlessly. But Tamara had to work, afterall. “Hey, I only have to be here till eight. Do you wanna get a drink after and we can continue this lovely conversation?” 

Kara was once again astounded by this girl’s straightforward confidence which seemed awfully familiar.

“On a monday?”

“Societal norms have pushed upon us the expectation that all drinks shared between companies of two or more that happen past four pm have to be of the alcoholic variety and we just stand back and accept that. After six in the evening I drink tea. We could try out that London Fog if you haven’t yet?” Kara couldn't help but laugh, bemused by this answer. 

At the mention of a London Fog, her thoughts came careening back to Lena Kieran and the time they’d spent at the art gallery that evening just discussing art before time had run out and she’d been whisked off into the night like Cinderella. And thinking back, that conversation hadn’t seemed so very different from the one today with Tamara. Besides, Tamara was here and asking her to join her for a tea and Lena was not; too occupied or perhaps even disinterested to answer a short text. Kara didn’t hold it against her, but it did put things into perspective. Plus Kara was convinced that Lena, who had only entranced her, was miles out of her league. So she smiled, her bright, genuine, typically Kara smile and sheepishly agreed to meet this girl at Elliot’s a few blocks down the street. How she had never heard of the cafe in the two years she’d been studying a short distance away from it, she didn’t know.

Sitting down at an open round table, Kara spread herself out and got to work. Every now and then, Tamara would pass by, on her way with a cart full of books to be reshelved and she’d share a random thought with Kara, or gesture at a couple making out on the couch with the most exaggerated eye-roll say: “I’ve given up on kicking them out. The whole school’s going to end up avoiding me if I follow Benett’s orders.” She was referring to the elderly head librarian. Kara only laughed, sharing in her frustration. At one point, Tamara gasped and pointed outside at a seemingly very agitated pigeon who was making dives at every passerby. She only chuckled as she walked off and said, “Probably serves them right.”

Finally the last paragraph of her essay had made itself known, and with a satisfied flourish, Kara japped the ‘period’ key. “Hallelujah.”

“You done?” Looking over at the front desk she found Tamara smiling as she sat fiddling with something or other—it was too far for Kara to identify. 

“Yes, _finally._ Gosh I do not like history.”

Packing up, Kara made her way over to where Tamara sat tinkering. “What on earth are you busy with?”

“Oh! Well this _stupid_ piece of garbage computer from the sixteenth century keeps crashing in the middle of forums which I then have to start all over, so I’ve taken out it’s motherboard to see if cleaning it will help, if not I’ll try rewiring it a bit; I think there’s a problem with the CPU.”

Kara, her mouth hung open and eyebrows knit in amused surprise, laughed. “Okay _what._ You’re just casually taking apart the school computer and reassembling it because it’s giving you hassles.” She took in the array of parts and wires littered across the desk and peeked inside the computer, curious what it looked like behind the screen.

“If not why not? It’ll save the school the cost of replacing it or hiring someone to do what I suspect I’m gonna have to.”

“Why do you know how to reassemble a computer,” Kara deadpanned, amusement still lurking.

“Ah well, I get bored easily so I’ve picked up a lot of random skills over the years in my downtime.”

“Wow.” Kara laughed and adjusted the strap on her shoulder as she turned to go. “Alright then, smarty pants. I’m going to go change and dumb my stuff, meet you at Elliot’s?”

Laughter and a call of “sure” followed her out and Kara shook her head in disbelief. She wished she knew how to fix her laptop that had started giving her trouble recently.

Following the instructions Tamara had given her, Kara easily found the small coffee shop and smiled as the bell jingled when she opened the front door. It was a cozy place with open yellow bulbs strung along the walls, tapestries and scatter cushions on the benches behind a row of small tables. She spotted the student librarian tucked in a corner with a book in front of her and Kara made her way over to the table she’d chosen. “Hey, sorry I’m a bit late, my sister held me up.”

Having put her finger on the word she left off, Tamara beamed up at her. “Hey back. All good, always nice to have an excuse to read a book in a cafe.”

Kara settled herself across from her, delighted to discover beneath the glass tabletop was a cavity filled with coffee beans. “Speaking of which, what a cool place? What the heck? I love it! It’s so bohemian.” She took the opportunity to look around again.

“Isn’t it? My cousin’s the owner actually and I may or may not have helped with the interior designing.” Kara whipped her head back to find Tamara smiling with her tongue bit between her teeth. 

“Why am I not surprised?” She laughed. “Well, you did an amazing job, wow. Hey you shouldn’t have waited for me, why didn’t you get yourself something already!”

She waved a hand, unadorned besides a simple ring on her thumb. “Oh no that’s okay. But I told Missy to start on the London Fogs whenever you come in.” Almost on cue, Kara heard the steamer singing, its sound a familiar comfort.

“Oh? And how did you describe me?” She teased.

“Well I knew there’d be few coming in at this hour and I was only sixty-seven percent certain you’d have your canvas satchel with you but to play it safe I had to resort to ‘the tall, blonde goddess in glasses’.” 

Kara felt her cheeks flush with warmth asking she smiled and fumbled with adjusting her glasses. “Wow well, t-thank you.” 

She wondered if she’d ever seen the girl without a smile on her face. Tamara shrugged. “Sorry, just stating facts. I’m not one for dwelling on the vanity of appearances, but what else can one do in such an instance?”

“Well, in any case, I’ll return the favour. You’re pretty cute yourself.” Kara resisted the urge to cover her face. She really did have no idea how to talk to pretty girls now that she’d come to terms with the fact that she could freely kiss them.

“Thank you, honey.” And in all her confidence, the girl’s cheeks seemed slightly pinker in the soft light. “I’ll go get the teas.”

Upon her return and after expressing shared delight at the caress of gentle flavours and comforting warmth, their conversation resumed it’s bubbly flow.

They talked of anything from the classes they were taking to childhood dreams and ambitions which had morphed with age. With every new topic that passed with the minutes, Kara was fascinated by Tamara and enjoyed her stories, thoughts and humour tremendously. At one point, Kara had ended up sketching the guy hunched across the room with his pom-pom adorned beanie and huge wire-rim spectacles upon Tamara’s request. “He’d make for wonderful story inspiration and a sketch is better to work off of than my wild imagination. Thank you,” she’d laughed and the conversation had moved to how she was currently writing her third book but had yet to publish any of them. Kara was promised the chance to read them one day in exchange for her honest review.

Finally the night was slipping into a sleepy hum, and with a glance at her pocket watch, Tamara realized they were almost at closing time. “A pocket watch. Are you serious.” Kara commented.

She glanced up surprised and grinned. “Afraid so.”

“Hat and a pocket watch. You must have loved _Alice In Wonderland_ as a kid.”

She laughed, her grey eyes twinkling a bit. “That is a wonderful compliment and I thank you. It was a great bedtime story, yes indeed.” With a sigh, Tamara set her hands one atop the other hanging on the edge of the table. For the first time that night her mouth was relieved of its joyful display and a quiet settled between them. Her eyes that bore into Kara’s had a vast but peaceful depth. And finally when Kara felt the need to break the silence, the corner of Tamara’s lips quirked almost imperceptibly and there was a shadow of a smirk; once again so familiar. Kara found herself unable to trace her eyes back to the simmering grey ones and her baby blues remained heavy on the small but full matte pink lips.

Before Kara’s brain could register, the student librarian leaned toward her and Tamara’s citrus-y scent enveloped her. As her lips settled on Kara’s, she was sure she might burst at the sudden bloom of energy in her chest. So this was what kissing girls was like. It was so much softer and sweeter than any kiss she’d ever had, and soon Tamara was shifting to straddle Kara’s lap—she doubted that only one of them was solely to blame for the initiation of the bold action. 

Kara had never done this, never been on the bottom of this position before and she found she immediately loved it. Loved the way her hands were allowed, and almost supposed to settle on Tamara’s green skinny jean-clad ass.

Just when Kara opened her mouth to allow entrance to the curious and sharp tongue, cool hands at her neck, a voice interrupted them. “Really, Tam? This is what I’m closing up late for?” With a decidedly unashamed laugh, Tamara sat back on Kara’s thighs and looked over her shoulder. 

“Sorry, hun. We were just about to leave, I promise.”

“Uh huh.” The blonde man threw a tea towel at her head which she easily batted away as she stuck her tongue out at him. “Take your girl somewhere else, I wanna go home.”

“Turning back to Kara, thumbs still caressing her collarbone, she apologized, laughter dancing in her eyes. “That would be my cousin. Elliot, obviously.”

“Not a problem.” Kara was still breathing heavily and she couldn’t lie, she was desperate to reconnect their lips and explore this new and exciting territory. “You guys seem close, it’s sweet to see.”

“Yeah, we are. I have a _huge_ family so they’re a big part of my life.” Finally, she swung off Kara and gathered her things. “We could…” she trailed off but when Kara only adjusted her glasses, still dreaming, she started again. “Wanna come back to my apartment?” This shook her out of her reverie and stumbling on her words Kara tried to form an answer. Eventually, she noticed the laughter Tamara was trying to supress as she watched Kara. “Your shyness is so contradictory with who you present yourself as. It’s fucking adorable,” She simply stated and Kara appreciated the distraction, laughing at herself too, if only to gather her scattered thoughts. 

She’d never slept with a woman and she was suddenly terrified, but the electricity thrumming under her skin couldn’t be ignored so Kara couldn’t but say yes. “Yeah, Tamara, I’d love that.” 

“Call me Tam,” She said as she rounded the table, heading toward the door with her hand held out for Kara to twine their fingers together. 

The night was crisp and cool around them and Tam breathed it in deeply beside her. “It’s such a beautiful night…. It’s such a beautiful existence.” Kara hummed in agreement, marveling at the lens this girl saw the world through. 

“You are a very intriguing person,” she finally mustered up the courage to speak her mind, and looking down at the shorter, much curvier girl, blushed at the wink sent her way. 

“Why thank you. Wanna know what I’ve always lived by?” Not waiting for Kara to answer but brushing a thumb over Tam’s ring anyway, she answered. “ _Be the person you needed when you were younger.”_

“I love that,” Kara said and felt herself slip into the shoes of her child-self. What would she think of this interesting woman? Would she have looked up to such a person? Found her confidence and intelligence inspiring? Her choice of appearance fascinating? “I think I would’ve loved to know you now as my little self, too.'

For the first time, Tam looked sheepishly to their feet moving rhythmically over the pavement. “Compliments that correlate with one’s core ambitions always hit a little deeper. Thank you for saying that.” Kara felt a squeeze of her hand and suddenly impatience bubbled. 

“How far do you live, exactly?” 

With a smirk, Tamara pointed to a house three rows down. “That sage one there. I rent the basement and the owners are almost always away, it's fantastic.” 

“Well then let’s go!” Kara started running, tugging on Tamara’s hand until they were laughing as they ran, struggling to latch the gate again and stumbling up the stairs. Kara waited patiently and let Tam fumble with getting the keys out of her pocket and into the lock until the door was finally unlocked and she eagerly pushed it open.

Grabbing her hand again, Tamara tugged Kara down the stairs and to her bedroom. En route though, the fire in Kara’s veins leapt and with it her confidence and she pushed the writer against the nearest wall, kissing her deeply. A startled gasp crescendoed into a moan as Kara shoved her thigh between Tamara’s, her hands roaming to tug at the jean jacket’s sleeves. It slumped to the floor and with it, Kara’s sweater. Just as she had tugged off that mustard shirt and moved her lips to Tamara’s jaw, Kara’s phone chimed with Alex’s personalized notification sound and she groaned in annoyance. “Sorry,” She breathed heavily. “Gotta just, quickly….” Tamara’s hands already on her ass, pulled out her phone for Kara and handed it to her with a chuckle. 

“All good.”

As Kara pressed her thumb down to unlock, she felt soft wet lips at her neck and she whimpered, trying to concentrate on the words shining too brightly at her. _U still w/ the librn girl for coffee? Getting late, just checkin in on u._ Kara smiled at her sister’s care. “My sister’s just asking if I’m okay.” She got out as Tamara’s hands pulled her belt loose and slid back around, slipping beneath the waist to cup her bare ass this time. 

“And what’re you gonna tell her?” Tam nipped her her ear and her hands squeezed, almost making Kara yelp. 

“T-t-that I’ll see her tomorrow.” She tried again to type out the words. _Gettjng laif, see u tmrw._ She pictured Alex falling off her chair but didn’t have time to add a wink before sending it as she felt a hot tongue swipe up her adam’s apple to suck a definite hickey. Her phone dropped to the carpet and with a growl, Kara popped open the button of Tamara’s jeans and peeled them off, having to first stop and shuck their shoes off, before losing her own. Her hips slammed Tam back into the wall and with them both in only their underwear, she lifted at the thick thighs and her legs wrapped around Kara’s waist. As she walked to the room where she’d spotted a bed, she noticed how obviously wet the hot center was on her abdomen. 

Her mind was racing as she lowered them onto the bed, the only thought running through her mind: _I’m going to sleep with a girl. I’m going to sleep with a girl._ And she dipped her fingers below sunflower-patterned underwear.

—

“ _What the fuck is this?” A newspaper was thrown down onto Lena’s desk where she was seated. She looked around frantically, not wanting the entirety of LuthorCorp to overhear, but finding instead that she’d once again lost track of time and everyone had already gone home for the night. Looking up at Lex leering over her, almost frothing at the mouth before looking at the paper before her, Lena blanched whiter than she already was._

_It was a collection of photographs from Friday night. One of her kissing Andrea goodnight from where she’d walked Lena down to where she’d parked, then a few of her making her way to her car, lipstick still slightly smudged, hair a little mussed, and the buttons of her suit jacket done up crookedly. Most glaring though, was the splattering of hickeys that stood out angrily all across her neck and chest._

_It was three in the fucking morning when she’d dragged her drunk ass home, needing to be prepared bright and breezy for an early business meeting the next day_ — _how were there paparazzi out at that time and managing to catch the two lovers in their most private state of affairs. The headline stood out in offensive bold print:_ A Young Scandal Amidst the Luthors and Obsidian Tech’s Rojas’? _Their relationship hadn’t been a massive secret, Lena’s family certainly knew of it. But to have it splayed across the front cover of the citywide paper was the very thing they’d tried to avoid like the plague._

_Like the deer in the headlights, eyes popping, and feeling so very small beneath her step brother’s looming figure, Lena stared up at him and waited._

_“Lena? What the_ fuck _is this? This is the_ very _thing I warned you of! This exact thing!” He was practically roaring, and with every word Lena flinched, sinking further and further into her suit jacket; the shoulders suddenly feeling far too wide and bold for the pathetic disappointment Lena was in actuality. “You are lucky father has his fingers in every news outlet citywide and was alerted to our name, able to put a stop to this before it got out. Very lucky indeed. In fact thank your fucking stars, Lena. But we had this one printed just for you. Because this!?” He picked the newspaper up to shove it in Lena’s face, the paper trembling as Lex shook with rage. “This is what happens when you act like a child. When you go around acting like a whore. And that is absolutely unacceptable when you bear our name._ My _name. I will not have you dragging it through your filth, again, Lena. Mark my words.”_

 _Lena’s jaw ached with the act of clenching her teeth so hard together she was shocked she hadn’t yet heard a crack. With every fibre of her being she kept the burning behind her eyes from manifesting as moisture to brim her eyelids._ Breathe. Center. Center. Center.

_With no reaction from Lena, Lex slammed his fisted onto her desk, rattling the pens in the drawers beneath and stalked off, leaving only the crumpled pictures of her behind. Waiting, holding every muscle in her body as stiff as possible, waiting until she was sure Lex had gone, and waiting a little bit more for extra measure, hoping he’d even changed floors, Lena finally let herself lean back into her chair._

_Like the very paper that lay on her desk, she crumpled into a thin, worthless wisp as she shuddered with unspent tears. She could not let them fall, but she at least could suck in a desperate, quavering breath._

_What the_ fuck _was she going to do?_

As she sat huddled on her bed, her knees pulled tightly to her chest and her knuckles white from their vise grip on her elbows, Lena ran over and over the last thing she could remember. Her phone had told her it was Wednesday, 1:21a.m. the last time she’d checked. The last timelog she had was that evening at LuthorCorp at 9:38p.m. on a Saturday, just moments before Lex had stormed in. Rocking back and forth and almost unaware of doing so, Lena screwed her eyes shut and tried to remember.

Centering herself and envisioning the neural pathways in her brain, most specifically those in the amygdala she tried to recreate the lost time. That part of the brain was responsible for fear and memories related with fear. If she were to find her lost memories of the time stolen from her anywhere, she was almost certain it would be there. 

But as much as she physically forced herself, and pushed against every wall she thought she came across, running through memory after memory and consequently steeping herself in every fearful moment she had ever experienced, Lena could not remember.

Sobs hiccuped through her and she felt her adrenaline spike and her hands felt soaked and clammy. Dropping her head onto her knees, Lena tried to hold back the cry clawing its way up her throat, but it was like a sharp, jagged object lodged there and try as she might otherwise, to keep it inside of her would only wound her more. Biting her shoulder, she let the shattered wail sink into the fibres of her shirtsleeve. 

The tears would not cease and that only further enraged and frightened Lena, knowing at some point or another, anyone could walk in and discover her. 

Lena Kieran did lose control like this. 

Lena _Luthor_ was the epitome of cool, detached, intelligent, collected, powerful. 

But she could not turn off the beastly sorrow fighting within her hollow cavity of a chest. 

Not knowing _what else she could possibly do_ , Lena stumbled off her bed and to her closet, almost tripping over her numb, ice-cold feet. She clawed at the little box hidden in the toe of those shoes and made her way back to her bed, taking up the exact little space on the comforter she’d left. 

Taking out a shiny silver blade, Lena’s mind in its shambles supplied her with the vague thought of ‘ _tomorrow is thursday’._ Something happened on Thursdays, but right now, Lena couldn’t remember what. She couldn't _fucking_ remember _anything._ Whatever it was, she’d deal with it. 

Sliding up the hem of her shirt, Lena lifted up her left breast with one hand, and with her other placed the blade on the soft skin, a patchwork quilt of fine silver scars. And feeling the hot poker dig further into her heart with every slight move of her breathing, Lena dragged the blade deeply into her flesh and a sharp breath was the only sound to cut through the thick air. Pain blossomed and over and over Lena watered it, _finally_ having something to focus on, something to center herself around, something to anchor her.

Possibly an hour later, Lena found her body moving itself towards her bathroom. Watched as her hands reached for the cold and only the cold tap on the bath. Were those her own hands, so crusted with that flaky red substance? She watched as various items of clothing fell around her and imagined the air must be biting if the littering of goosebumps all over her skin was any indication.

When the huge tub was filled to the brim, Lena slipped into the water.

She did not leave until her fingers and toes had taken on a bluish hue to contrast the cloudy red water.

When she passed the mirror on the way out, her eyes caught on the blue of her lips and the deep sunken purple bags beneath her eyes. “What did you do? What happened?” She heard her voice trail out to knock against the glass and fall uselessly to the sink and down the drain.

Like touching an open livewire, a shock raced down Lena’s spine and she gasped, feeling something for the first time in a while. Whatever it was that triggered her, Lena’s brain kickstarted and rebooted itself. Her mind churned and whirred and with widening eyes she ran to the small lab attached to her room. Barely registering herself grabbing a white coat and fastening only one careless button, Lena set to work.

Grabbing a pen and a paper she tried desperately to get her rigid hands to hold the pen and write at the speed her mind was racing. “Fuck you!” Lena said to her hands and threw the pen across the room with a force she didn’t believe. Digging the heels of her palms in her eyes Lena gave herself a mental blank canvas. “Think, think, think.” If she couldn’t write it she’d have to record it audibly. “Benzodiazepines is most likely what would’ve been used to prevent the encoding of new memories in the time of operation—or whatever the fuck happened,” she added in a mumble. “Molecular formula is C9H8N2 so theoretically if I reverse that with it’s opposite counterparts, should be able to create a compound with opposite effects, hopefully reversing the effects of the drug that was administered….” Lena trailed off, having laid some of the most critical pieces out to work with. She grabbed at vials and a select few chemicals and painstakingly got to work with her useless fingers. “It’d be extremely dangerous to administer untested but if I get this right, it’s side effects shouldn’t act too differently than benzodiazepines itself, only working in reverse.”

Lena had no idea how long she worked and her eyes stung with the force of her concentration. But finally, she slumped into a chair defeated, exhausted, but _possibly_ successful. 

In her slouch, her breast pressed heavily on the fresh cuts and she hissed, straightening herself again. She looked to see the state of her wounds.

Now, she finally remembered why she hadn’t cut in months and months. 

Thursday—in a few hours, actually—she was supposed to model for the art class. 

For Kara’s class.

With another start, Lena realized she had never gotten the opportunity, in the whole shitshow that had been the past week, to answer Kara’s text. She groaned, and somehow out of everything, this is what frustrated her the most. It was too late now. Receiving a reply five days later at five in the fucking morning would definitely be unacceptable. Lena had to go to the class. 

And like a tsunami wave crashing from nowhere Lena spiraled, panicking. 

She had covered her scars in the past with the skin-type material, but it only stuck when activated with the agent spread on the true skin below. And to spread that on an open wound would, quite literally, poison her if it found its way into her bloodstream. She could make it work though.

She was a genius afterall.

“What if I took a piece of woven polyethylene and just taped it across the cuts? It’ll hurt like a mother fucker when I take it off and it’s only seventy-eight percent impermeable, but it would keep it clean for at least an hour, maybe two, I’m sure.” Her mumblings under her breath continued as she cemented her plan. 

Eventually she’d come upon a solution and whether it would work was only eight-two percent guaranteed but that was the highest guarantee she’d get and it wasn’t all that bad anyway. Closing up her cuts and testing the stretch of the faux-skin graft in the mirror, Lena deemed it good enough. It would work. 

She fixed her hair, applied as much make-up as was necessary to cover the rest of the evidence strewn across her body, and dressed herself. Turning back to the mirror again, she sought out the mask of Lena Luthor and crawled into the mold. 

She tried for a smile. It was almost satisfactory. A smirk? Lena grimaced. There was a haunted look in her eyes that diminished every intended effect of a smirk. The eyes were the window to the soul. Lena closed them and looked inward. _Breathe. Center._ She imagined the warmth of her mother’s hug all those years ago, imagined curling up with a book in her arms that transported her to faraway lands and wove her into the threads of the leading characters. Lena imagined love and light and joy. Her mind accidentally wandered to stumble upon a picture of Kara in her mind. The first thing that Lena had thought when she saw Kara was that she exuded all of those things. 

Opening her heavy eyes again, Lena smiled. This time, her eyes weren’t as empty as they’d seemed before and just for a moment she could believe the facade for herself. And that was all she needed. If she fooled herself, she’d fool anyone.

And with that, Lena put a swagger in her gate and made her way through the dark and empty halls, locking the door to her room behind her. She hadn’t had time to clean every abhorrent trace inside and couldn’t make Haley do that. 

When Lena watched as the clock ticked five minutes past the hour, she let herself into the side door of the art class, finding herself looking straight into Kara’s shining blue eyes as she walked to the dais. Lena felt her heart pick up it’s unrelenting pace and her breath catch in her throat as she took in Kara’s face. But she didn’t find the hurt or anger she was expecting. Only a more subdued version of Kara’s same old expression. Lena offered a small smile, one hopefully portraying her apology before turning away to undress. 

She ensured to make her mind a perfectly blank slate, not thinking about what she was revealing underneath her clothes. If she thought about them, she was sure everyone would see right through her little disguises to the gore that lay underneath. She had faith in her scientific inventions, always, and she knew that how she covered her scars all those times before was very effective. Perhaps this time it was one extra layer thicker with the thinnest material she could find, but it wouldn’t possibly be noticed unless studied from very, very close range.

 _Breathe. Center._ It was going to be fine.

The class was on its way to wrapping up and the lack of eye contact between her and Kara throughout the whole class almost devastated Lena—almost pushed her off the fragile balance she had come to rest at under her mask.

Kara smiled at her when they met eyes exactly three times, and there was friendliness without a trace of malice or anything other, but it wasn’t like it had been all the other times. They hadn’t prodded one another with unspoken words and pointed looks. Their eye contact had no form to it. It was just what it was meant to be: eye contact.

As she dressed, Lena’s mind wandered back to her thoughts when she had undressed. She had made the mental statement to believe and trust in her scientific ability. So she would trust in all of it. 

Maybe her serum was untested and yes there was a chance at unforeseen side effects, but if Lena went over it one last time, she was sure it would be okay.

Interrupting herself from her thoughts, Lena approached Kara where she was packing up.

“Hi,” she started gently, not wanting to startle her. “I am truly so sorry for never answering your text, Kara. The past week has been… unreal.” She settled for the truth.

“Hey.” Kara gave an easy, friendly, polite smile. “No worries at all, I figured you were pretty busy or caught up in something or other.” She slung her satchel over her shoulder. “How are you doing?”

Out of everything, this question was what knocked the wind from Lena? Her mouth moving soundlessly for a moment, finally connected with her racing thoughts. 

She had successfully created a treatment serum, therefore she was doing well in her line of work, she was doing well in keeping up her guise, she was doing well in not scattering on the very floor of the art room before Kara, she was doing very well in keeping her spine straight and her legs beneath her. She was alive. “I uh- I’m doing well, thank you.” Lena swallowed tightly as she forced the unfinished words from her throat. “And you?”

“I’m glad!” Kara reached out and in only the briefest moment, lightly touched Lena’s arm to accentuate her statement. Lena had never quite experienced or even witnessed the natural actions of physically affectionate people. She desperately hoped she didn’t flinch, but she suddenly wasn’t entirely sure. “I’m doing great! Thanks. Hey, I don’t wanna hold you up, I know you have somewhere to be real soon but I did enjoy our conversation at the art gallery and really would enjoy doing so again. So if you’re up for it, let me know? You have my number now.” She smiled again and looked over her shoulder at a young man who was calling her name. “Be right there, Winn, you go ahead!”

Lena’s mind was reeling now and she was back-pedaling—hard as she reached a realization. 

This was a whole person with a full life and many people who cared for her and people whom she cared for. She was at a school which she had probably worked for summers at a coffee shop or something to pay for because she had dreams and ambitions. This was a healthy human being with a healthy life and that was something distinctly foreign to Lena. Lena couldn’t possibly risk anything surrounding her spilling onto Kara. No way. If she would do anything good and anything right, it would be to keep this life she’d came across, as untouched as she’d found it.

“Thank you, Kara. I do have your number now, yes.” _Neither confirm nor deny when turning away a potentially prosperous offer that may not be beneficial now but could prove to be in the future._ Lena took her father and Lex’s voices and shoved them so far down within herself that she returned breathless behind her fixed smile.

“See you next week?” Kara said as she began to turn away, but not leaving before Lena answered, apparently.

“Have a good week, Kara.” She replied. Lena couldn’t trust in the certitude of her next Thursdays. Her life wasn’t really her own, afterall, was it?

“You too.”

As they both turned away, and Lena made her way down to the parking lot, she made a decision. She’d have to probably ask someone to accompany her as she took the serum contingent only on the very infinitesimal chance of a serious side effect. Would she ask Andrea? She wasn’t sure she could, but who the actual fuck else was there in her life to ask? 

“I’ll figure it out, it’ll be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well oof.  
> but as always, thanks for reading, gays! Comments keep me sane enough to put words on a page so please do let me know if you like it ✌🏼  
>   
> also shh did I really exactly incorporate myself into this fic (hi my name's tam) to serve the purpose of a vital aspect in Kara's life? maybe but whatcha gonna do.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on twitter! (@3arlgr3yt3a (every 'e' in earl grey tea is a 3)) I make a post when I've updated a fic so stay up to date!


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